no doubt in my mind that it
was Mrs. Foster.

"Yes, doctor," he answered, "talking away like a poll-parrot with the
black-haired gent. That were last Monday; to-day's Friday, and this
morning there comes this bit of a note to me at our house in Dawson
Street. So my old woman says. 'Jim, you'd better go and show it to Dr.
John.' That's what's brought me here at this time, doctors."

He gave the note into Jack's hands; and he, after glancing at it, passed
it on to me. The contents were simply these words: "James Simmons is
requested to call at No.--Gray's-Inn Road, at 6.30 Friday evening." The
handwriting struck me as one I had seen and noticed before. I scanned it
more closely for a minute or two; then a glimmering of light began to
dawn upon my memory. Could it be? I felt almost sure it was. In another
minute I was persuaded that it was the same hand as that which had
written the letter announcing Olivia's death. Probably if I could see
the penmanship of the other partner, I should find it to be identical
with that of the medical certificate which had accompanied the letter.

"Leave this note with me, Simmons," I said, giving him half a crown in
exchange for it. I was satisfied now that the papers had been forged,
but not with Olivia's connivance. Was Foster himself a party to it? Or
had Mrs. Foster alone, with the aid of these friends or relatives of
hers, plotted and carried out the scheme, leaving him in ignorance and
doubt like my own?

CHAPTER THE FORTY-EIGHTH.

JULIA'S WEDDING.

Before the Careys and Julia returned to Guernsey, Captain Carey came to
see me one evening, at our own house in Brook Street. He seemed
suffering from some embarrassment and shyness; and I could not for some
time lead him to the point he was longing to gain.

"You are quite reconciled to all this, Martin?" he said, stammering. I
knew very well what he meant.

"More than reconciled," I answered, "I am heartily glad of it. Julia
will make you an excellent wife."

"I am sure of that," he said, simply, "yet it makes me nervous a little
at times to think I may be standing in your light. I never thought what
it was coming to when I tried to comfort Julia about you, or I would
have left Johanna to do it all. It is very difficult to console a person
without seeming very fond of them; and then there's the danger of them
growing fond of you. I love Julia now with all my heart: but I did not
begin comforting her with that view, an